Discovered
by BrynnH87
Summary: A collection of vignettes set in my "Lost and Found" universe. Set between "Found" and "Misplaced". Kind of the fluffy filling between the two longer, angsty pieces. Chronicals some changes in Jimmy's and Blair's lives.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Discovered

Author: Brynn

Author's Notes: This is another story in my Sentinel AU (the "Lost and Found" Universe). Reading those first would help. They can be found here: Lost and Found.

This chapter is part of a two part story. The other part is mostly written and will hopefully be posted shortly. In the meantime, this part stands alone as a complete story, by itself. I just tend to link several distinct stories together into bigger works. You could very easily read this and enjoy it without reading any further into the series.

Thanks to: PunkyRabbit and Cassandra30 for the beta work.

Disclaimer: I, obviously, don't own anything even mildly connected with Sentinel. I guess technically, the originally characters are mine, but certainly nothing else is.

Discovered

By Brynn

It had been eight weeks since the fire and the big day had finally come; Jimmy's cast came off that day. Anna had suggested that we make somewhat of a celebration of it…eat at a small "mom and pop" restaurant that was one of Jimmy's favorites, maybe invite "Fireman Mike" and his wife. Jimmy and Mike had become best buds in the weeks since the fireman was released from the hospital. We visited Jimmy's new friend about a week or so after I officially adopted the boy to deliver Jimmy's second-ever self-portrait. The first, he had given to me and was now framed and hanging in the living room section of my apartment.

After that first meeting, we made sure we went back on most of my days off. Mike and Jimmy had spent several hours drawing various things that first visit and since then, Mike had started to teach Jimmy to paint. Jimmy loved it. He had usually restricted himself to pencils, pastels or crayons before, though he had attempted a few watercolors in the past. Mike introduced him to the wonderful world of oil paints, and even bought him a starter set of his very own paints.

Unfortunately, oil paints are _really_ hard to paint over when applied to walls of a residential facility. We entirely repainted one wall in the living room section of the hall one day, only to notice the _next_ day that the back of Jimmy's bedroom door was adorned with a beautiful forest scene done in various hews of blue. Before we could repaint that as well, Sara saw it and gave Jimmy permission to keep it, but asked him to please secure permission before painting any more Center-owned surfaces. To soften the blow, she bought him a dozen canvases and a top of the line easel to practice on instead.

By the time Jimmy's cast was ready to come off, most of the walls on the hall were decorated with canvasses that Jimmy had painted portraying various scenes. Several staff members, 3-B staff and others, had brought in canvases and asked for specific pictures…portraits of Jimmy, copies of photos of loved ones, specific scenes, etc. Jimmy loved all the attention and was only too happy to paint anything asked of him. Dottie had asked him to paint a portrait of all the kids on 3-B, and had bought an extra large canvas. On the morning of Jimmy's doctor's appointment, the portrait was finally finished and Dottie and Jimmy proudly hung it outside the door of Hall 3-B so that everyone getting off the elevator would see it. By the time we left for the appointment, enough people had already commented on what a great idea that was, that I was sure Jimmy had in his future several commissions of group pictures from other halls. That should keep him busy for a while, anyway. I'm sure Mike had no idea when he taught Jimmy to paint, just what flood gates he was opening. Jimmy was happy, though and that made all the rest of us happy; especially since the boy was a little _less_ than happy about the upcoming doctor's appointment, even though he was _past_ ready to get the cast off.

He had gotten quite good at getting around on crutches, though. He was just about as fast on them as most of the kids were without them. Fortunately, he could bear weight on the cast, so he didn't need the crutches when he was painting. He also had found quite a few other uses for the crutches… the most destructive of which was sword fighting. Jimmy had taught Ryan how to battle with the crutches and it had become their new favorite game. So far, I owed the Center for two windows and a television set. Actually, thank goodness, Sara had told me not to worry about it; the Center had a maintenance fund for such events and Jimmy certainly wasn't the only resident that had those kinds of accidents. Still, the cast couldn't come off soon enough for me, and I was seriously considering a bon-fire bon-voyage for the crutches.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

As it turned out, Mike had gotten the wires removed from his jaw just the day before and said he would _love_ to go out to eat a solid lunch with us. He said he was quite sick of soup and liquid food of any variety, and while he wasn't sure he was quite up to a hamburger just yet, _anything_ that could be eaten without a straw would be a welcomed change. So, we all planned to meet at the little restaurant at the edge of Dottie's neighborhood. It was in a small section with a few businesse right around the corner from the residential section and was within walking distance of Dottie's so we often went there when I had Jimmy with me. He liked to walk there before the crutches, but we had taken the car recently. He said he might like going there even _more _since the fire, though, even though he couldn't walk there, because he got a bigger portion of ice-cream for dessert now that he was on crutches. Never let it be said that Jimmy didn't know how to work a crowd. As with all the staff at the Center, all the waitresses at Cal's Diner had pretty much adopted Jimmy as their little darling. What I wouldn't give for that kid's way with the ladies.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

I was anxious to see how Jimmy would handle the noise of the saw used to remove the cast. He had been working hard on controlling his reactions to sensory spikes in the weeks since the fire. He had gotten to the point where he could immediately control spikes up to about 8 blocks without any help from me and without actually having to physically manipulate the blocks. Spikes of nine or ten took more concentration, but, with minimal verbal direction from me, or with a small touch, he could handle _them_ as well. He'd react with some kind of startle response, but could then get them under control pretty quickly for every sense except touch. In that area he still needed a good bit of talking down...not nearly as much as he used to, though.

We had been talking all morning about what would happen at the doctor's appointment, so, when the noisy saw began he didn't even startle. He had been working extra hard on controlling his startles to sound, since that had been the final straw that caused him to bail off the ladder during the fire. He said he liked it when Mike called him his flying squirrel but he really didn't want to fly any more...at least not without a plane.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

After we finished at the doctor's office, we met Mike and Linda at Cal's. Jimmy took great delight in telling Mike every _detail_ of the doctor's visit...every smell, every sound, even how the plaster dust tasted when he happened to open his mouth at the wrong time. I swear it took twice as long for him to tell about it as it did for the doctor to actually _do_ it!

Finally, Jimmy ran out of things to talk about and busied himself with the ritual of eating French fries. He dipped each fry in his chocolate milkshake, then into the ketchup. He would then take _just_ enough of a bite to get rid of the ketchup (because ketchup in his milkshake would just be "gross, Chief.") He would then start the whole thing over again. Each fry made about five trips to the milkshake and ketchup and Jimmy filled a portion of his plate with ketchup four times before he finished all the fries. I've learned to allow plenty of time for Jimmy to eat and to make sure there was always a full bottle of ketchup handy. I swear the boy used about a half a bottle for each meal.

Mike and Linda, Anna and I were talking about this and that when Jimmy suddenly jerked his head up from his meal and sniffed.

"Fire, Chief."

I couldn't smell anything, but I had long ago realized that that didn't mean Jimmy didn't. He had been particularly attentive to the smell of smoke since the fire. For the first several weeks he had all but panicked every time someone lit up a cigarette. He had gotten better at distinguishing non-dangerous smoke since then, but he still sometimes overreacted.

"Fire, Chief!" He was becoming quite anxious.

"Hey big guy, we'll find out where the smoke is coming from. I don't think it's dangerous, buddy, but you need to calm down a little while I find out, okay?"

Anna stayed with Jimmy and I went up to the counter to ask if there was any smoke in the kitchen at all. The owners and workers here were used to Jimmy by now, so they knew the drill. A drop of cheese on the grill, any food dropped on the burners, someone burning some food (which happened sometimes)…any of that would produce enough smoke for Jimmy to think "fire".

The matronly lady working the cash register returned and told me that she couldn't find anything at all that might produce smoke. I looked toward the table and Jimmy was still pretty close to freaking out.

I told him I'd be right back and went to look in the restroom for anyone smoking. It was a non-smoking restaurant, but occasionally there was a customer who thought that surely the rules didn't apply to _them._ As I entered the men's room I heard Mary, our waitress (one of Jimmy's favorites) announce that she would check the ladies' room. I was just about to exit after a thorough check when I heard Anna scream, "Blair!"

I learned later that Jimmy had continued to become increasingly agitated until he finally shot off the chair and toward the door. Mike had come closest to catching him, but Jimmy was closer to the door, fast, and determined. Mike, closely followed by Anna was out the door just moments later, hot on his heels, while Linda stayed and paid our bill, not realizing that the owner would have assumed that I'd be back to take care of it.

Jimmy ran down the street and turned the corner, Mike close on his heels. By the time I caught up to them, Mike had a squirming, nearly hysterical Jimmy in his strong arms and Anna was frantically trying to calm the boy down. Just as I started to join the effort, we three adults finally began to smell the smoke, too.

"Jimmy!" I took his face between my hands and tried to get him to look at me. "We smell it now, too, big guy. Calm down so we can let you go and we'll all go see what's going on, okay?"

While I talked to Jimmy and Mike still held him, Anna had followed the smell of smoke around another corner. By the time she ran back to us, she was breathless and wide-eyed. "Blair, there really _is_ a fire. Looks like it's on the first floor of one of the houses over on Maple Street. There are quite a few people standing around and the fire department has already been called; should be here any time. As far as anyone knows, no one was home, so at least no one can get hurt."

As Anna was speaking, Jimmy calmed down significantly. His agitation had never been due to a sensory spike, but had been because he was frustrated that it was taking us too long to get to the fire, and was worried about the possibility of victims. Once he was calm enough for us to be sure he wasn't going to bolt again, Mike loosened his grip so that the restraining hold became a reassuring hug, then finally Mike released him altogether. Jimmy immediately grabbed my hand and started to run toward the fire.

We got to the scene about the same time as the fire truck. Sure enough, there were plenty of people standing around. When a fireman approached and asked if anyone was in there, several people replied that the family that lived there consisted of a single mother and two school-aged children. The mother worked during the day and the children should be in school.

The fire-fighters launched in with a valiant effort to save the house and,, while they were still on the look out for signs that anyone was in the building, they were fairly certain that there was no one home. By this time, Mike caught up to us, having been joined by his wife.

Jimmy stood, transfixed, watching the fire and the effort to put it out. I asked him if his sense of smell was okay, this close to the fire. He told me he had turned it off. Normally, I didn't like it when he turned any sense all the way to zero, but I could certainly understand in this case. In fact, I kind of wished I could have done the same. The smoke was becoming a smothering blanket and the smell was starting to be a little overwhelming.

Suddenly, Jimmy's head whipped up to the corner room of the second floor, even though there was no fire there whatsoever. "Chief! There's somebody there!"

"The neighbors said everyone was gone, buddy. You sure?"

"Neighbors were _wrong_ Chief! There's someone there...crying!" He was becoming more and more agitated. "She's crying for her mommy, Chief! She's scared!" He broke away from me, heading for the house, but Mike easily scooped him up before he had gotten three steps. Jimmy was wiggling frantically again, and I realized I had to get him calmed, quickly.

"Jimmy!" I said firmly, hoping to get him back under control, "Settle down, Buddy! We'll take care of it, but you need to settle down, okay?"

Mike jumped in. "Hey, squirrel. I know these guys. I can get them to check for the little girl, but I can't leave until I know you're gonna stay with Blair." That worked! Jimmy immediately stopped wiggling. He was obviously still agitated but he wasn't going to run now. He was trying so hard to get himself under control so that Mike could go.

"Hurry, Mike," Jimmy pleaded, and the fireman rushed off.

How he convinced the other firemen that they should look in the upstairs corner bedroom for a little girl even though all the neighbors were saying that no one was home, I still don't really know, but he did, and moments later two men cautiously entered the building through the entrance farthest away from the fire. Mike stayed close to the remaining firemen, getting information as soon as they did.

I was paying more attention to Jimmy than to Mike so I missed it when the fireman gave us a thumbs-up sign, telling us that they had found the child. But, I didn't have to see it. I could tell just by looking at Jimmy's face. He had been watching the corner of the house intently, and suddenly his whole expression relaxed, and he even spared a small smile. "They got her, Chief."

Just then, there was a commotion at the edge of the crowd. A car had pulled up and an anxious woman ran up to the firemen.

"My daughter! My baby is in there!" The poor woman was nearly in tears. "She was home sick today so I stayed home from work. The drug store called to tell me her prescription was ready. I was only gone fifteen minutes!"

The firemen tried to calm her down and assure her that her daughter was safe, but she became increasingly hysterical until she actually _saw_ her ten year old being carried by one of the firemen. The little girl was set on her feet near her sobbing mother, and the EMTs from the ambulance that routinely responded with the fire truck checked her over, giving her a little oxygen just in case. The mother decided to allow the ambulance to take the girl to the hospital, just to make sure she was fine, using the philosophy that "you can never be too careful with children."

We watched as the mother asked a neighbor to collect her younger son from the bus-stop and baby-sit him until the woman and girl could get home. The two females of the house were then bundled into the ambulance and whisked away. Jimmy insisted that we stay until the fire was completely out. Mike had asked his buddies what they thought may have started the fire. From just a preliminary glance, most thought it was probably due to a pan of soup left on the stove while the mother had gone to the drug store. I imagine the lady was probably pretty tired and emotionally drained to have made such a preventable mistake. No matter how careful people are, those kinds of accidents can always happen. I was just so very glad that no one had to pay too big a price for this mistake. The fire fighters had gotten the fire out fairly quickly. The damage was contained to the front section of the first floor, on the opposite side of the house from the little girl's room. There was smoke and water damage to much of the rest of the first floor, but nothing that couldn't be repaired. Plans were already being made to get someone in to examine the structural integrity and the neighbors were busy making plans for how to fix some of the damage themselves, with the woman's permission, in order to save her money. One thing I found that I absolutely _loved_ about living in a small residential community was that people here tended to take care of their own.

I expected Jimmy to remain a little agitated for a while, but it seemed like once he was satisfied that the girl was safe and the fire was out, he was pretty much able to put the whole incident out of his mind. As the last of the equipment was being loaded onto the fire truck, Jimmy suddenly grabbed my hand and began pulling me back toward the restaurant.

"Hurry Chief! If we don't get back soon, Mary might throw away my chicken nuggets!"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Discovered: Part 2

Discovered: Part 2

It had been two weeks since Jimmy alerted us to that fire in the house on Maple Street. More importantly, he had alerted us to the presence of that little girl. That event revealed to both Jimmy and me that it might not be enough just to survive sensory spikes and be able to keep his senses at normal levels. According to my research, the sentinels in ancient tribes used their enhanced senses to warn the tribe of things that the other members could not sense. They were basically early warning systems, just as Jimmy had been the day of the Maple Street fire. That proved to both of us that, not only _could_ Jimmy use his senses productively at a higher than 'normal' setting, he was also _ready_ to do just that.

Toward that end, Jimmy began experimenting with the blocks again. This time, instead of frantically trying to take blocks _off_ to get to 'normal', he _started_ at 'normal' and _added _blocks. It became his new favorite game.

At first, he would sit in his room and try to pick out one conversation in the living room area on the hall. I was a little reluctant to let him do that, at first, fearing that there would be an unexpected loud noise. With his hearing turned way up, a loud noise would be incredibly painful. Dottie actually agreed with me that he probably shouldn't be trying that. Anna, on the other hand, as she often does, had the opposite opinion. She pointed out that Jimmy _would_ at some point, start messing around with his senses, whether we wanted him to or not and inevitably there _would_ be a loud noise when he wasn't expecting it. He had gotten pretty good at dealing with his sensory spikes, though, so now was probably a good time for him to be conducting these experiments. She further pointed out that it was far safer for him to be experimenting when we were around and aware, than it would be if he tried out these things behind our backs. Jimmy is enough of an independent spirit that he _would_ experiment with his senses, now that he saw the need…he'd probably try even _harder_ to experiment if he felt that we wouldn't let him. Maybe that was why Anna seemed to understand Jimmy so well. They were both just _incredibly_ stubborn when they wanted to be.

So, the experiments proceeded. Soon, Jimmy started trying out his other senses as well as hearing. He would try to read the print from a book or magazine from the other side of the room, would identify ingredients in food, and sniff out smells from various distances.

Ryan begged to be involved in this new game and Jimmy would have his friend "plant" a drop of perfume or a dash of a specific spice somewhere in the living room while Jimmy waited in his own bedroom. Ryan took great delight in his part of what essentially became a giant game of olfactory hide and seek.

After much debate, and numerous puppy dog faces from Jimmy, we got the ladies in the cafeteria involved, as well. They knew what spices Jimmy liked, and at his urging, they would put minute samples of one or the other in his mashed potatoes. The ladies and Jimmy alike were overjoyed when he could identify the spice. Of course, the downside to all of this was that he decided he _liked_ mashed potatoes with a dash of cinnamon. Hey, at least _I_ couldn't smell it or see it in the potatoes and I _certainly_ wasn't _about_ to taste it, and he _did_ stop short of putting ketchup on _those_ potatoes…so, maybe it wasn't a draw back after all.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

After weeks of eavesdropping on just about any conversation in the Center, Jimmy decided he needed to stretch out even more. He didn't tell _me_ what he was going to do first, or I _would_ have tried to put a stop to it. Anna and I were talking in the living room area of the hall one evening, just before the end of our shift, while Jimmy was in his room doing some sensory experiments. Suddenly, we heard a terrified "CHIEF!" come from Jimmy's room.

We both rushed in, of course, along with several children and another staff member. No one knew what to expect. He didn't sound hurt, exactly and it didn't seem like a spike. But, by the time we got there, he was as agitated and wound up as he had been when he smelled the smoke of the Maple Street fire.

"Chief, we have to help him!" His voice was urgent, and he was trying to leave the room.

I couldn't have that until I knew where he was likely to go. "Help who, big guy?" At this point I figured that he had heard another child hurt himself in some way, and I was prepared to tell him that the staff on that hall would help him. He surprised me.

"He's on the street. I think a car hit him." He was frantic and I was dumbfounded to realize just how far away Jimmy had stretched his hearing. "I hear him crying, Chief!"

Anna was prepared to call the police to report a possible accident, when Jimmy said. "I think he's a puppy, Chief. He doesn't sound like a _big_ dog." He cocked his head as though listening even harder. "His whining is getting week, Chief. We have to _go_!"

At that, he managed to burst past me before I got a good hold on him. "Alright buddy, we'll go check it out, but you need to stay with me, you got it?"

"Yes, yes Chief. But we have to go_ now_!"

As I hurried to keep up with Jimmy, who, true to his word, wasn't getting _too_ far away, but was obviously becoming quite upset with how slowly I was moving, I heard Anna say that she would clock me out at 7:00, which was only about ten minutes or so away. Once we got outside, Jimmy led me to the Center's long driveway and started running down it, toward the road. My car was right there, so I called to him to come back and told him we'd take the car. It sounded like we could quite possibly have an injured or dead dog to tend to, and we could certainly use a vehicle. Jimmy was extremely agitated during the minute or so it took to get into the car and drive to the main road. I couldn't see an injured dog anywhere, and was beginning to think that Jimmy had had his hearing extended even further than I had thought, but then he yelled, "He's there, Chief." He was pointing off the side of the road into the nearby bushes. Once I knew where to look, I could, indeed, see signs of an animal having recently been injured. There was blood and fur on the road, and smears of blood leading to the bushes as though something had dragged itself there, not too long ago.

I parked the car and we both hopped out and made our way to the bushes. I had grabbed a thick coat that I always kept in the car, in case the animal was still conscious, but Jimmy said, "He's not crying now, Chief."

Sure enough, by the time we found the pup, it was unconscious. To my eyes, it was obviously a stray. It had mud caked on its mangy coat, as well as the blood caused by the accident. It had no collar, and looked like it hadn't eaten in quite a while. When I got a good look at the injuries, I didn't think the dog was going to make it. One leg was obviously broken, with a bone protruding through the skin. It's entire right side was covered in blood, and the way it was breathing made me think that, at the very least, there were broken ribs that had puncture a lung. There were most likely other internal injuries as well.

"He needs help, Chief!" I had no idea if Jimmy had any concept of just how bad this little guy's situation was, but he obviously needed to do _something_ to help.

As I gently scooped up the pup and placed it on the coat, I noticed something. "Hey Jim, I think _he_ is a _she."_

"Yeah, but he still needs help!" Okay, the discussion about gender and the proper use of pronouns could wait until later. I wrapped the little thing in my coat, placed it in the back seat, and we rushed to the nearest animal hospital which I knew from passing their sign every day had late hours.

The receptionist took one look at the little bundle that Jimmy had insisted on carrying in, and yelled for the doctor. Apparently triage exists at a vet's office too, because there were already a couple of people with their pets waiting in the reception area. They, too, were looking at the now somewhat bloody coat, and didn't seem to mind that we moved to the head of the line.

One of the owners, a small, elderly lady, asked Jimmy, "What happened to your puppy, son?"

Jimmy expressed anger I didn't even know he felt. "He was _hit_, by a _car_, and they didn't even bother to stop! They just squealed their breaks, I heard the dog scream, and then the car just zoomed off again. They didn't even _stop_!"

The elderly lady looked sympathetic and told Jimmy she hoped the little thing would be okay. By then, a vet tech had come out and was leading us to the nearest empty room. Jimmy was reluctant to let go of his burden, but the tech gently coaxed him into laying the dog on the table and opening the coat. She was trying her best not to express to Jimmy just how hopeless the situation looked, but _I_ could read it in her face just fine. She hurried out the back door of the examining room, into the lab area, presumably to get the doctor. He returned with her almost immediately, took one look at the dog, and told us that it needed immediate surgery. I explained that the dog was not ours and I really had no way to pay for an operation. He said we'd worry about that later. Even with as bad as the dog looked, the doctor felt he could save it, if he operated immediately. I learned later that this vet had a reputation of never giving up on any animal. Other people, later, told me they would have just had the dog put down, which, quite frankly was what I had been thinking, but after one look at Jimmy's face, I _had_ to try anything I could to save that dog, so I told the doctor to operate, and I truly would worry about the money later.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

As much as I tried to get Jimmy to leave, he wouldn't hear of it, so we sat in the waiting room for almost two hours. Even this animal hospital that had a reputation for staying open late had closed. The receptionist and other staff not helping with the surgery had long since gone home.

Just as I thought of trying one more time to convince Jimmy to leave, the doctor emerged from the back rooms. "That is _one_ feisty little dog. I wasn't sure she was going to make it, but we got the leg and ribs repaired, fixed the internal injuries which included a punctured lung, and so far the little thing is still with us. She must be quite the little fighter."

Both Jimmy and I let out a sigh of relief as the doctor continued. "We need to keep her at least overnight…possibly tomorrow night as well…it all depends on how she does. I'll call you tomorrow morning to tell you how she's doing."

Jimmy started to protest and said that he wanted to stay the night with the dog, but the doctor very patiently explained to Jimmy that that was just against the rules and he just couldn't let him do that, but that he'd take _really_ good care of Jimmy's friend, and would call him first thing in the morning to tell him how she was doing.

By then, it was much too late to take Jimmy back to the Center, so I just took him home. Besides, that way he could get that call in the morning. Dottie was waiting up for us when we got there. Anna had called her and told her what was going on. Jimmy took the next half hour telling her in great detail all that had happened, and he finally fell asleep on Dottie's couch, almost in mid-sentence, like he sometimes does when he'd been fighting sleep. Neither of us had the heart to wake him up, and neither of us could really pick him up very easily, so we just covered him with one of Dottie's quilts, and I sacked out on the floor nearby. Usually Dottie would have fussed about me sleeping on the floor, but this time, she understood the need.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The next morning, Jimmy could barely settle down enough to eat his meal and he kept pestering me about when the doctor would call about the dog, even though it was way before time for the vet's office to open. Finally, I convinced him to eat his cereal and in what seemed like the first quiet moment I had had all morning, the phone rang. Jimmy hopped up and pranced around as I answered the phone and talked to the doctor. The dog had made it through the night, was on pain medication, and the doctor felt it could probably come home some time in the afternoon or early evening. It was all I could do to convince Jimmy that he needed to go to school and that as soon as classes were over, I'd pick him up and take him to the vet to see about the dog.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Finally, after what the teachers assured me was their absolute _longest_ day with Jimmy, school was over, I picked him up and we rushed to the vet's office. The doctor told us that judging from the condition of the dog, besides its current injuries, it was the doctor's theory that it had probably been part of an unwanted litter and either had wandered off because of neglect or had been dropped off by an owner. It looked to be about four or five months old, the vet said, and was in extremely poor health. He said it had probably been on its own for quite some time, and I was a little concerned that it might have gone feral. I didn't know what I would do about that, since Jimmy had made it clear that he intended to get quite close to the dog, and probably even want to pick it up.

The doctor seemed to realize what I might be thinking, and he assured me that the dog seemed to be quite docile. Of course, the fact that he had the animal pumped full of pain-killers probably had something to do with that fact. He led us to an examination room just as the vet tech was bringing the dog out. She laid it on the examining table, and Jimmy broke free from me and ran to the dog. He gently laid a hand on either side of its face, brought its eyes up to meet his and said sternly, "Don't you ever scare me like that anymore!" The dog, for her part, seemed to be quite contrite and reached up weakly and licked Jimmy in the face, as he peered close to it.

After another moment of what seemed to be silent communication between the child and the dog, Jimmy looked at me and said, "Wolf and me are ready to go home, Chief." As I stood dumbfounded, the boy continued, "He says he's all better now."

Aside from his obvious misuse of pronouns (I would_ really_ have to talk to this boy about pronoun/antecedent agreement), I could see numerous problems with the appellation "wolf". This dog showed traits of just about every breed of dog there was, _except_ for _anything _that might _remotely _resemble a wolf. Judging by it's height at four to five months; I estimated its adult height at about the size of a large cocker spaniel. It had droopy ears, but _short_ droopy ears. So, it's ears were not at all like a cocker spaniel's _or_ a wolf's. It had short, bristly hair of just about every color I'd ever seen on a dog, and a few shades of red that I could have sworn that I had _never_ seen on a dog. All in all, it looked _nothing_ like a wolf. I decided to express my concerns to Jimmy.

"Jimmy," I said, finally finding my voice, "it's a girl. And if any canine ever looked _less _like a wolf, I don't know what it would be." Jimmy cocked his head and gave me a look that clearly said, "Deal with it, Chief. _His_ name is _Wolf_."

So I began thinking about where to take, and how to take care of this gender confused, mangy mutt who didn't have a hope in hell of living up to its name. I could see in Jimmy's eyes that, regardless of what _I_ thought, we had just found ourselves a new dog.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Dottie and the house scene

Disclaimer: looking around for a bill of sale Nope, still don't own 'em.

Author's notes: Thanks to my beta, Punkyrabbit.

**Discovered 3**

Over the last several months, Jimmy had been staying with me more and more often, and just riding in to the Center with me in the mornings for school. We'd stay for the evening activity, whatever it may be, and then I'd leave at the typical time for the day shift at 7:00PM. Jimmy often came with me, but when he didn't, he was fine getting ready for bed by himself, so I didn't need to stay there until 9:00 any more. Sara had even put me in the normal rotation for shifts, and it usually worked just fine. I still, more often than not, came in on my days off and ate lunch with Jimmy, sometimes dinner too. But he was getting less and less dependent on me all the time, though we _had_ had a talk and agreed that he would _not_ experiment with his senses when I wasn't there. Other than that, he was pretty good about staying without me. He still needed to know where I was, and would often call me on my cell phone between classes or in the evening if I wasn't there. And he _always_ called to tell me goodnight. But, I think that had more to do with making sure he _could_ still talk to me if he wanted to, than it had to do with dependence. The whole mess with the restraining order and the trial had really shaken his trust. He trusted _me_ as much as he ever did, but he still wasn't sure someone wasn't going to swoop in at a moment's notice and tell me I couldn't see him. He was getting better, but it was still there.

The more time I spent away from the Center, the more I started to think about maybe finding an apartment…or maybe even a small house…somewhere Jimmy could call home. Hell, somewhere _I_ could call home. Growing up with Naomi, I never really had a 'home-place', and I had still been living at college when Jimmy first contacted me in the jungle. I had spent the next eight years roaming all over the country, with no _room_ to sleep in sometimes, let alone a _home._ So, it was kind of a big deal for me. But I didn't want to move very far away either. I _loved _Dottie. She was much more 'the typical mother' than my own mother ever had been, and while I loved Naomi, Dottie filled a need I didn't even know I had. Also, Jimmy adored her, so moving _too _far away was out of the question. But, with Jimmy and me both staying there more and more often, not to mention the added inconvenience of a dog, I was really afraid we were starting to take advantage of her. She often cooked us dinner and breakfast, and even though I had offered to pay for the groceries needed, she wouldn't hear of it. Jimmy had to stay in her guest room when he was here because my little apartment just didn't have room for another bed. I had planned on sleeping on the floor and letting Jimmy have my bed, but again, Dottie wouldn't hear of it. I was torn, and really couldn't make up my mind about what I should do, so I decided one day to discuss it with Dottie.

She listened intently to all I had to say, without interrupting. When she could tell I was finished, she had her turn.

"Blair," She started, "Don't feel you have to move because of me. I _love _having you here, and when Jimmy stays, he is _very _welcomed to my guest room. It's not like anyone else uses it except Anna, sometimes, and she doesn't seem to mind the couch. So, don't think you need to move for my convenience. You are absolutely _not_ imposing. In fact, I like the company. That being said, don't feel you need to _stay_ because of me either. I was fine living alone before, and I will be again, because no matter _where_ you live you _will_ visit often, and let Jimmy stay here with me from time to time if he wants to." She stopped to give me her 'stern' face, letting me know there was absolutely _no _question about those last two facts. Not that there would have been. I'd never cut Dottie out of Jimmy's life, _or _mine. She had been a godsend from the very beginning. I didn't want to continue to impose on her, but I didn't really want to move very far away, either.

So, for a while, we continued on as usual. On my weekends off, Jimmy stayed in Dottie's spare bedroom and he and I would do something special together…pretty much whatever he wanted. We often ended up in the theater or at an art store. We sometimes visited Fireman Mike and usually ended up eating out somewhere…Cal's Diner and Ihop being Jimmy's favorite. I tried periodically, to take him to the park. He liked being outside, and he enjoyed having new things to draw, but he still wouldn't play on the equipment. The closest he ever got to that was when he climbed to the top of the monkey bars, thin sketchbook in his mouth, and proceeded to draw everything from a new angle.

If Dottie and/or Anna happened to be off too, they sometimes came along on the outing of the day. When Anna was along, we often went to Mike's and Linda's. Anna and Linda had gotten quite close and they would usually visit while Mike, Jimmy and I went out to the fireman's art studio in the garage.

Mike had recently begun dabbling with sculpting and he had been excited to introduce Jimmy to yet another art genre. Unfortunately, we finally found a form of art that Jimmy couldn't master instantly. _ I_ thought his first attempts were rather good…certainly much better than anything _most_ kids his age could do, but he didn't seem to like them enough to want to keep any. He _loved _working with the clay for its own sake, however. He liked the feel of it and the smell of it. He experimented with different sized lumps and different ways to apply his hands so that it made what, to him, were fascinating noises. After the first few attempts to actually _make _something, he quit even shooting for something in particular and just worked the clay. He usually squashed it again before either Mike or I could tell he was finished, but Mike had managed to save a couple of pieces from their impending doom and actually fired them. Jimmy then had fun painting them in bright colors with no apparent rhyme or reason. Again, I think he was just playing with his senses more than caring what the finished product looked like. I didn't care either, as long as Jimmy was happy. Mike _loved_ the pieces, asked if he could keep them, and called them "Jimmy's abstract period."

At first, I had been a little concerned that Jimmy would obsess on the clay the way he had with the oils when Mike first introduced him to them, but he seemed content to leave it as something he did when he visited "Fireman Mike." So, the whole situation seemed to work out just fine for all involved.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

On one of my Saturday mornings off, while I was in the kitchen with Dottie, she told me she might have good news for everyone concerned. She seemed really excited. Dottie wasn't usually that tight-lipped, but she positively would _not _tell me in passing. She waited until we were all settled down to breakfast and Jimmy was busy cutting his waffles, before she broke out into a grin and said, 'I think I might have found you the perfect house!"

She went on to tell me that Mrs. Johnson, right next door, was selling her house and moving to a retirement center. The brick house was a two story, three bedroom house with a fenced in back yard, and an absolutely gorgeous flower garden in the front. Mrs. Johnson had been reluctant to leave, but the upkeep had just gotten to be too much for her, even with me and other neighbors helping. Since she _had_ to finally sell it, she loved the idea that Jimmy and I might be interested in the house. She had become somewhat of a second grandmother to my boy, since I had started bringing him around so often. We all felt Dottie fulfilled a grandmother role to Jim, but we were all _much_ too enamored of life to actually say anything…too often.

Mrs. Johnson was so excited to have the house in the hands of someone she considered family that she was even willing to come down on the asking price to be within the range for which I could get financing. I agreed with Dottie. It _did_ sound like the perfect house…close to the Center, right next door to Dottie, plenty of room inside and out for Jimmy, me and that mangy mutt, _and_ reasonably priced! I decided to go talk to Mrs. Johnson right after dropping Jimmy off at the Center…and possibly trips to the bank and real estate agents might be in order…though I didn't plan on rushing into anything.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

One good thing about potentially buying the house of a neighbor…especially an elderly neighbor…was that I pretty much knew all of its quirks already. I had often helped Mrs. Johnson with minor plumbing problems, and I knew about the potential flooding in the low place in the rear corner of the back yard. I had heard my neighbor complain that the roof leaked in the upstairs bathroom, but I had also been on the roof to patch it and knew that the wood was not yet damaged; it could just use to be re-shingled. The rain gutters could stand to be replaced, and the walls clear through the house could use a coat of paint. But, I also knew that the foundation and basic structure of the house was sound. The bricks were clean, the mortar was intact. The shutters and eaves had just been replaced, as had the windows in most of the house. The fence around the backyard was in good condition, the wiring was good throughout the house; all in all, it was a typical older house that had been well cared for over the years, but could use a little "sprucing up". The minor repairs it needed, I felt sure I could take care of, as soon as I got the money to pay for them. Mrs. Johnson said she would throw in the riding lawn mower, weed eater, and an extensive collection of tools that had been kept in pristine condition since her husband had died years before.

I was sold! I double checked with the bank to make sure I could get the financing and told the real estate agent that I was interested. I figured the final step was to get Jimmy's opinion on the whole thing. I wasn't really sure he'd care, though. He seemed to be pretty content wherever he was. He still needed some kind of consistent schedule and we all still instinctively tried to regulate his environment to keep sensory spikes at bay, even though that effort on our part was becoming less and less necessary. As far as where he slept or where he lived, however, he almost didn't even seem to notice, and certainly didn't seem to have a preference.

It was my own criteria that made living close to Dottie and by extension Anna (at least from time to time) a priority more than anything Jimmy had said. With the rapid progress Jimmy was making with his senses, his social skills, and his academic pursuits, I could see a time in the not so distant future that Jimmy would be living with me full time and would be attending a different school. I think he'd miss _everyone_ at the Center, but keeping him from seeing Dottie and Anna on a frequent basis would be devastating to all three of them.

Once I picked up Jimmy and we had our traditional mid-afternoon ice cream at Cal's, I took him to Mrs. Johnson's and told him she would be moving away soon. I knew that that statement wasn't the main reason for our visit but Jimmy reacted all the same.

"Aw," he said while engulfing her in a warm hug, "I'll miss you!"

I thought Mrs. Johnson was going to be reduced to tears. _I_ almost was. This was one reason everyone fell in love with this little boy so fast. He was so compassionate. Dottie said he always had been, in his own way. Even when he was fighting his senses so hard that he could barely reach out to the world at all, Dottie said he had always noticed when someone was hurt or sick or just unusually sad. He hadn't been able to say anything to them at that time, and didn't like to touch or be touched, but he would always go sit by them or bring them a cookie at snack time or crayons if he was drawing…anything to try to cheer them up. Dottie said it had always been quite effective…to see this little boy who was usually so disconnected make a conscious effort to help someone else…It was just very moving.

Now that he could express himself more efficiently, that compassion came across even more loudly. If Mrs. Johnson hadn't been besotted before, she certainly was now.

Once Jimmy released her from the hug, she said, "I'm going to miss you, too, punkin, but I was hoping you'd do me a favor and look after my house…you and Blair. I'm an old lady now, and I can't take care of the old place like I should, but Mr. Johnson and I lived here the whole time we were married. Since I have to sell it, I'd really like it if you and Blair would be the ones I sold it _to_, so I would know that the old place would get the care it needed.

Jimmy looked around for a moment, asked me if that meant that we would live there, waited for my answer and then looked at Mrs. Johnson. "Okay," he said and headed over to the crayons and drawing paper our neighbor always kept for him. That was our decision, I guess. I think we were about to become homeowners.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It would take a little while to make everything official, but I started announcing to everyone that Jimmy and I were in the process of becoming the proud owners of a beautiful old brick house right beside Dottie's. Everyone at the Center and numerous neighbors offered to help paint the inside before we moved in, and also to help with the moving. Mrs. Johnson was leaving us quite a bit of her old furniture, which was very fortunate, since I had none of my own. What she didn't have, Anna offered to give me. It seemed that there was an extra added plus side to my moving. Anna was going to rent Dottie's apartment in my stead, so she had some extra furniture that wouldn't fit in the smaller, but closer apartment. That meant that the only thing I'd have to buy was furniture for Jimmy's room, but both Anna and Dottie told me to hold off on that. Mike told me to have Jimmy's room painted a plain pale blue, but not to decorate it any more than that. When I asked any of the three of them "why", they each said. "Jimmy's birthday is coming up, and everyone has plans."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Discovered 4

Disclaimer: As much as I would love to receive ownership rights of Sentinel characters for _my_ birthday, alas, I haven't, so I still don't own 'em.

AN: Thanks to my beta, Punky.

**Discovered 4**

Jimmy's thirteenth birthday was quickly approaching and everyone wanted to do something special. Anna said that this was the first year that Jimmy could really enjoy an elaborated party and she felt he had a right to be spoiled rotten on his birthday. I, personally, thought the kid was spoiled rotten _every_ day, but I agreed about the birthday party. His last birthday had come and gone almost completely unnoticed, coming as it did in Jimmy's "rough patch" right before I got there. So everyone was thrilled to be able to make _this_ year doubly special.

Anna was spear-heading the whole movement. I felt I should contribute _something_ since I was officially the parent of the birthday boy, but Anna told me, in no uncertain terms, that I should just sit back and stay out of the way. She said she had wanted to do this for Jimmy the entire five years she had known him. Most of the other kids on the hall had parents who at least made some attempt at doing something for their birthday. Jimmy had never had anyone like that. And now that he could finally appreciate Anna's efforts, nothing short of divine intervention could have stopped her, so I heeded her advice and made myself scarce.

She arranged a cookout with all of Jimmy's favorite food to be provided by staff and neighbors…"covered-dish" style. She and Dottie led a group of people in decorating our newly painted house. Anna and Mike both forbade me from entering either of the other two bedrooms, though they did let me start moving some of my personal effects into the master bedroom. We kept wolf in the backyard of the new house since Dottie's yard wasn't fenced, so I was allowed in the kitchen to get her food. Other than that, my own house was virtually off-limits to me.

Officially, I was still living at Dottie's until after Jimmy's party, so I "wouldn't get in the way." Dottie had been careful to explain that everyone wanted these things to be a surprise for me as well, lest I get offended by Anna's constant insistence that I "butt out". I hadn't been offended, though. I knew Anna's sense of humor and her ways of expressing things. She was a very loving and compassionate person, but wasn't one for mush, or mincing words. She usually spoke her mind with very little concern about how it might be received. She never set out to hurt anyone's feelings…she just more or less assumed everyone knew what she meant. People who didn't know her might think she was a little acerbic, but all those who knew her, accepted that diplomacy just wasn't her strong-suit, and loved her anyway.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

So, after two weeks of being kept out of most of my new house, the day of Jimmy's party finally arrived. His actual birthday happened to be on a Saturday, so it worked out that his party was actually on his birthday. Even if it hadn't been, Anna would have planned the party for Saturday so folks who worked during the week could come. Ryan's mom and dad brought Ryan and planned to stay as well, having brought food and presents. Mike worked as weird a schedule as everyone at the Center, but had asked in advance for the day off. I found out that Jimmy had become something of a mascot at the Fire Department, so Mike showed up with a car load of present…everyone had wanted to send something to "Mike's flying squirrel." Linda, Mike's wife, came with him since she was usually off on Saturdays.

Both Dottie and Anna had asked to be scheduled off so they could be there. Sara Marshall, the Center Director went them one better and got substitutes for the last hour of dayshift so that any staff who wanted to could make it to the party at 6:30. Hank, Stacey and Tara were there.

We had decided to keep the party a surprise from Jimmy as much as we could. It wasn't hard for me to do since I didn't really have a lot of the details anyway. Jimmy's teacher had had a small celebration in her classroom so the other children could take part. It was a tradition for the class to have cupcakes on or near someone's birthday, so Jimmy knew, intellectually, that it was his birthday and that people celebrated that day. The idea of a large surprise party, though, was completely foreign to him, so he would never suspect one. I had told him he was staying with me that weekend and that we were staying in our new house for the first time. He became a little sad at that and said that Dottie would be lonely. I promised him she would visit.

Anna had been careful to remind everyone _not_ to yell 'surprise' when we walked in. As it turned out, though, that wasn't quite enough in the way of precautions. As soon as Jimmy and I walked in, everyone said _something_: "Happy Birthday" or "Surprise", even one "There's our teenager!" Each person was careful not to be too loud, but together, the volume got a little high. There were a _lot_ of people there! Even _I_ was a little overwhelmed! Another problem that none of us even _considered_ was all of the bright colors. Anna must have bought out a party store. Balloons of just about every conceivable color adorned the ceiling, with their brightly colored tails hanging down all over the living room. There was a huge, colorful sign announcing that it was Jimmy's "13th Birthday". Streamers exploded from every surface and door jam. It was beautiful…and apparently too much.

Jimmy immediately scrunched his eyelids tightly together and clapped his hands over his ears. I had never heard a room full of people drop to silence so quickly in all my life. We all just stood, watching Jimmy, and waiting him out. When he finally pulled his hands down, opened his eyes, looked around, and slowly began to smile, we all let out our collectively held breath.

"All for me, Chief?" He asked as he turned to me with the widest eyes I'd ever seen.

"Yep!" I answered, "All for you, big guy!"

"But I've already had my cupcake." He was honestly confused.

Dottie addressed that one. "Sometimes people get more than a cupcake for their birthday…especially if it's a big year, like when someone officially becomes a teenager!"

Jimmy just smiled. "Cool!"

Anna, who had just looked stricken when she thought she had caused the birthday boy more distress, finally leaped back into action. "This is only the start, buddy. Come out back!"

As we exited the rear of the house into the backyard, we were greeted with another explosion of color. This time Jimmy was expecting it, though, so no distress. Jimmy's eyes went immediately to the heavily laden food table, the center of which was filled with an enormous cake sporting an airbrushed copy of the self-portrait Jimmy had given Mike. _My_ attention was drawn to Wolf, who was limping through the yard with brightly colored bows tied all around her collar. She made her way to Jimmy as quickly as she could with the bright blue cast on her right front leg, seemingly totally oblivious to how ridiculous she looked. Once she reached Jimmy, he reached down, and patted her gently, his eyes never once leaving the food table.

Anna warned Jimmy before they started singing and Jimmy still beamed the brilliant smile that hadn't left his face since recovering from the shock in the living room. After that, he blew out the two candles, one shaped like a '1' and the other as a '3'.

Dottie announced that the grilled hot dogs were ready and after convincing Jimmy that, "_no_ he may _not_ have cake first, even on his birthday," she handed him a specially selected hot dog, one with no black grill marks on it. He wouldn't eat the ones with black marks. He called it "burnt-stuck" and said it "tasted funny".

He took the plate with the hotdog (no bun) and added to that large helpings of mashed potatoes, french-fries, and mac-n-cheese. (Why that boy didn't weigh 200lbs with all the carbs he ate, was beyond me.) He then covered _everything_ liberally with ketchup and found a spot to sit on the grass in the middle of the yard (even though there were a large number of chairs set up). Figuring we'd been officially dismissed, everyone started filing through the food line. As I loaded my plate, I noticed that both Jimmy _and_ Wolf were making short work of the food on Jimmy's plate. I knew that telling Jimmy not to share with the dog would have absolutely no effect – I'd tried numerous times before – so I just saved my breath. When he held out his ketchup covered hot dog for the dog to take a bite, and then proceeded to bite off of it himself, I decided I couldn't watch anymore, and busied myself again with filling my plate.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

After everyone had eaten their fill, we moved Jimmy to the gift table that looked about ready to succumb from all the extra weight. He briefly examined each gift, hefting it and even smelling some of them, then he gleefully tore into first one present then the next, tossing the current present onto the ever-growing pile of previously opened gifts. I noticed as they zoomed by that quite a _lot_ of the guests had gotten him art supplies…the obvious choice and always appreciated no matter how many he already had. There were several Firemen helmets, toy axes and water hoses, toy fire engines, etc, that had come from the men at Mike's station. Many other guests brought blocks, legos, and other building supplies. Several brought building sets which required tools and I couldn't wait to see what he would think about those. Right then, though, he wasn't expressing an opinion about anything. It was almost like he was getting lost in the sensations: the color, feel and noise of the paper, the weight of the present, the smell of the play dough and some of the other art supplies, even the smell of the boxes themselves. It wasn't a typical teenager's reaction to gifts, but Jimmy was anything _but_ typical, so as long as he was enjoying himself, no one seemed to mind not getting "oohs" and "ahhs" about their gifts…or even "thank you's" for that matter.

Finally, Jimmy opened the last gift – a wonderfully soft blanket with a picture of a wolf on it. That one, he grabbed up and started rubbing on his face. Before he could get too lost in the sensation, Anna got his attention and told him there were two more gifts, but he'd have to go inside the house to see them.

Anne, Dottie and Mike led Jimmy and me – and the rest of the party guests- into the house and up the stairs, stopping at the first door on the right – the third bedroom. I had mentioned to both women that I was thinking about turning it into an art room for Jimmy. Apparently, they had taken the suggestion to heart. As they swung open the door, Jimmy and I could see numerous shelving units laden with most of the currently owned art supplies from Dottie's house, but with plenty of empty spaces for the new gifts. There was an easel in the middle of the room with a small, movable cabinet nearby. Inside the cabinet, we would find later, was his paint brushes oils, palette, etc. The two ladies had even set up a table where Jimmy could work with the clay Mike had donated. Jimmy was impressed and walked around the room in awe, touching each new item. When it looked like Jimmy was ready to dismiss the rest of us in favor of painting on the clean canvas sitting on the new easel, Anna asked him is he thought he could wait for a little while before doing that.

"We have one more gift, big guy," she started, as she led us to the next door on the right, "We saved Mike's gift to last!"

With that, Mike opened the door to Jimmy's room, his face a mixture of excitement and apprehension. I could tell he wasn't _quite_ sure how Jimmy would react to his gift, but clearly he must have initially thought it was something he'd like, or he wouldn't have done it to begin with…whatever _it_ was.

As the door swung open before Jimmy and me, we were both left speechless. Painted on all the walls was a blue jungle, obviously inspired by some of Jimmy's numerous paintings of it. The ceiling was adorned with a canopy of blue leaves, and on the wall opposite the door stood a majestic wolf painted in shades of blue and gray, obviously ready and waiting to watch over his charge. Just under the wolf was a beautiful bed made out of roughly hewn logs that matched the rest of the rustic furniture in the room. It all looked perfectly at home in the middle of the jungle Mike had created.

Jimmy was silently entering the room, one awe-stuck step at a time. Most of the party-goers in the hallway had already seen the room prior to the party, so the ones who could see him were watching Jimmy. All of them were silent.

I followed Jim into the middle of the room and draped my arms over his shoulders, a little awe-struck myself. My son's quiet voice broke the silence, when he almost whispered, "It's our jungle, Chief!"

"It sure is, buddy," I whispered back. Mike and our two ladies just watched our expressions, as I noticed theirs. Anna looked triumphant, Mike relieved and pleased and Dottie was proud and happy to be a part of something Jimmy obviously cherished already. I knew that these three people had put a _lot_ of effort into providing our favorite young man with the _perfect_ 13th birthday. As I peaked around and got a look at Jimmy's face, I knew they had succeeded.

The End

The "Lost and Found" universe continues in "Misplaced."


End file.
